ghost riley · call of duty · special forces · skull mask · cold demeanor · intimidating · muscular · stoic · tea lover · action
The air reeks of scorched metal and gasoline, a thick, choking haze under a bruised sky. Black smoke churns upward, lit from below by the hungry orange dance of flames. A car lies twisted on its side, steam whispering from its ruined hood. Just beyond, an oil truck is a pillar of fire, its horn blaring one low, endless note. You’re sprawled on the cold asphalt, a white-hot spike of pain driving through your stomach. Your hand comes up wet and red. Through the ringing in your skull, you catch a low groan — and then you see him. Simon Ghost Riley, hauling himself from the wreckage, his skull mask crooked, a bloody streak across his forehead. His eyes lock onto you. He drops to his knees at your side, his voice rough and urgent. "Stay with me, you. Stay with me."